


i woke up feeling okay

by livj707



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, So I wrote this instead of sleeping, Statutory Rape Mention, Trauma, after a bout of inspiration that hit me around 1 am, and i don't regret it, and this probably doesn't fit into canon at all, fred is the best dad fight me on this, i have no idea what the timeline of this is btw, i hope this isn't cringey, i never write in present tense so bear with me, idk how else to tag this, this is the result of 3 hours of nonstop typing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-15 23:20:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14151564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livj707/pseuds/livj707
Summary: Jughead’s still watching him expectantly, and Archie clenches his fists together to try to stop them from shaking. God, the question...it's so simple. So simple, but so complicated.Are you okay?“Of course,” the boy answers, with a smile so fake it's nearly painful to muster.----------Or, Miss Grundy leaves before anyone finds out about the affair. Archie tries, and fails, to deal with the aftermath on his own.





	i woke up feeling okay

**Author's Note:**

> i'm a bit hesitant to be posting this, because i'm like 90% sure the majority of the fandom is done with everything ms. grundy related, and i wouldn't even call myself a fan of this show. however, i love the fanfictions, and i've always wanted to write one myself - one that, in my eyes, fixes some of the mistakes the show has made. now, i've always HATED how the ms. grundy storyline was handled. so i wrote this to try and piece together some of my ideas on how it should've turned out. i hope you all enjoy :)

“Hey, are you okay?”

The question, startlingly simple, cuts through the air like glass; party because it's the last thing Archie expects to hear, mostly because he has absolutely no clue how to answer that question. He tries to shake it off, nod his head, shoot his friend a quick smile of reassurance,  _ anything _ . But all he does is pause from scribbling notes down in his notebook and meet Jughead's gaze.

It's a Sunday afternoon, and the two boys are working together on history homework; however, Archie cannot seem to concentrate, and it's no mystery why. In fact, the whole “studying together at Pop’s” idea was mainly Archie's attempt to get himself out of the house, at  _ least _ once, for a reason that isn't going to school.

Jughead’s still watching him expectantly, and Archie clenches his fists together to try to stop them from shaking. God, the question...it's so  _ simple.  _ So simple, but so complicated.

_ Are you okay? _

“Of course,” the boy answers, with a smile so fake it's nearly painful to muster. Throughout the rest of Pop’s Chock’lit Shoppe, the place where both teens have spent so much of their shared lives, patrons are going about their afternoons as if it's a completely normal day. 

_ Which is is _ , Archie has to keep reminding himself.  _Totally, completely normal._

Pop Tate lowers an enormous tray of food onto the table next to them, snapping him back to reality. He forces himself away from Jughead's curious gaze, trying to bury himself in his notes.

“Archie?”

“When was the Cuban Missile Crisis again?”

“Archie.”

His gaze shoots up. “What?”

“Why did you cancel our plans with Betty?”

“Because, I-” Archie’s words trail off, noticing that Jughead has put down his pencil and is now fixating on him with serious eyes. They were supposed to see a movie with Betty and Veronica the day before, but Archie had canceled at the last minute, claiming to not be feeling well. Though it wasn't a  _ complete _ lie, it wasn't the whole truth either. Archie shrugs. Puts his pencil down, too. Glances at the shaded, diner parking lot out the window. Sighs.

“I just wasn't feeling up to it, that's all.”

“Okay, but if -”

“What did you get for number 9?”

This time, however, Jughead seems to sense a change in tone, for he only eyes his friend for a moment before turning his attention to the open books and papers in front of him. They continue working, opting to not bring up Archie’s strange behavior for the rest of the night.

Archie walks home alone at 7 PM, his book bag hanging over his shoulder lazily. Though he doesn't realize it until now, he lets out an enormous breath that he had been holding the whole night. Jughead can be nosey, and he's often the definition of stubborn. But, truthfully, he's so much easier to be around than Betty and Veronica, who try getting him to open up everytime he sees them. Even though Archie knows they're just worried about him, their prying still makes him nervous. It's almost like they know. And that strange, terrifying possibility frightens Archie in all kinds of ways.

The path on the way to his house is dark, and he finds himself looking over his shoulder more than he would have otherwise. He knows it's probably stupid; Jason was killed awhile ago, and though his father still doesn't want him walking alone at night, he knows it's most likely nothing more than an irrational fear that goes along with knowing a 17 year-old in your town was just murdered.

But, maybe he isn't scared of that.

The killer.

Not exactly.

And, still, the other option is even more ridiculous.

_ She's out of town, _ the little voice in Archie’s head tells him.  _ She's long gone. _

Archie shivers in a way that has nothing to do with the cold; this is maybe the first time he's  _ acknowledged  _ her like that. He breathes through the mounting panic in his chest and exhales heavily as he keeps walking. His shoes make skidding noises on the pavement, the sounds echoing throughout the trees. The streetlamps ahead of him illuminate small portions of the dark road in a diluted, yellow glow. Far off in the distance, a car turns a corner. Archie freezes. His skin starts to prickle. Directly next to him, a small car painted a bright shade of blue passes directly by him.

The boy feels his heart stop for a split second, his legs seemingly turning to liquid. He only just resists the urge to  _ throw  _ his book bag as far away as possible and sprint as fast as he can in the opposite direction. But the gripping terror in his brain is torn between paralysis and common reason, and all he can do is stand rooted to the spot, tears blinding his vision, doing all he can not to scream.

And just like that, the car is gone; it speeds off into the distance, and  _ of course it is, idiot, because not every car is a dangerous one, and not every driver is - _

Still, after taking a moment to pull himself together, Archie speed-walks down the street, never going a few minutes without casting a glance over his shoulder.

Just in case.

 

\----------

 

Archie hasn't been getting much sleep.

He's tried, over and over again. But no matter what he does, he can't seem to manage anything more than a few hours each night. He's even resorted to looking up simple home remedies online: eating before bed, not eating before bed, going to bed early, getting up before the sun...and still, nothing's worked.

The nightmares are frequent. They usually involved that same trapped, suffocating feeling. Often, he'd just spend hours trying to fall asleep, tossing and turning to no avail.

Whatever the reason for his sleep deprivation, it always leaves him with burning eyes and a headache and a feeling of dizziness and disorientation that refuses to leave him the whole day.

“Archie, wake up.”

Kevin shakes his arm at lunch, and he jerks awake, eyes widened with confuse and alarm. His friends are looking at him, that same look they've been giving him since it happened. Confusion. Worry. Empathy.

“Arch...what's wrong?” Betty touches his arm lightly with concern.

“Yeah, man,” Kevin adds. “This is the third time this week.”

For the first time, Betty and Veronica and Jughead see their friend differently. For the first time, Archie lies. Really, actually lies.

“I've had a lot of homework lately.”

Then, the next day:

“Vegas has been whiny.”

They nodded and went back to their meals.

Archie went back to his.

Every day.

 

\----------

 

A sharp knock on the door causes Archie to flinch so hard, even Vegas gets startled. The water glass he was drying moments before slips from his fingers and shatters on to the tiled kitchen floor. Archie listens for a moment, a cold, nauseating feeling pooled in the pit of his stomach. He hears nothing. Slowly and carefully, Archie tosses the dish rag on the counter and makes his way to the foyer. 

He sees a brown, wooden box sitting on the porch.

He hears a truck driving away.

He sighs. Not just in relief, but in frustration.

A package was delivered, and he was ready to bolt from his own house because of it.

 

\----------

 

Anyone who knows what a grade is would know that Archie’s are slipping.

It's not rocket science; what started as A’s and B’s have turned to C’s that are teetering on D’s in only a matter of months.

Fred isn't angry, but he's confused. And a little concerned. He assumes it's Jason Blossom; Hell, he's assumed  _ everything  _ going on with his son had some sort of connection to the tragic and shocking death of his former classmate. His passing definitely impacted their town, in more ways than one. Archie has clearly been affected by the whole thing, judging by his distance, his lack of sleep, and his jumping at every little sound.

Fred first noticed this about a week after Jason was found dead.

And he didn't pry, because he knew his teenager would want the space.

But now…

It isn't like him to do so poorly in school.

“Your report card came in.”

Archie pauses, not looking up at him. They're eating dinner, and - now that Fred thinks about it - his son hasn't been eating much, either.

How has he not noticed? 

How could be have not noticed?

“Oh.” Archie puts his fork down. His brown eyes are glued to the table. “I failed, didn't I?”

“No, Arch. You got C’s in all your Core classes, and a D+ in Civics. The rest are B’s.”

“I'm sorry.”

Fred opens his mouth, then closes it. He never sounds this quiet.

“You have nothing to be sorry about, Archie. I just want to know what's going on.” A pause. “Is everything alright?”

At first, his son is silent. Then, he throws down his napkin and leaps up from his chair.

“I'm gonna go to bed.”

“Archie, wait -”

“No. I'm fine. And I'm sorry about the grades. I'll try to do better.” And there's something in his voice when he says that, something that is so unbelievably  _ small  _ and childlike the it stings Fred more than he thought it would. He tried to say something, but Archie has already sprinted up the stairs, an echoing slam of a door confirming his absence. Fred lets himself collapse into his chair, rubbing his temples with his fingers and trying to figure out  _ what to do. _

 

\----------

 

It turns out that every day is a struggle; Archie pushes through the crowds of students in the hallway, ignoring the masses of people chatting about something that he doesn't want to hear, that he  _ can't  _ hear or else he might just double over and vomit with the feeling of fear or guilt or disgust.

(Or, maybe a bit of all three.)

It doesn't leave him; he falls down nestled in between Veronica and Jughead in the student lounge, and he tries to ask them about their weekend. But then Kevin is there, and Betty is listening with curiosity, and there's murmurs of gasps and  _ Oh my god, Miss Grundy and Jason Blossom might've been, like...together. _

And before he knows it,  the redhead is throwing his backpack over one shoulder and leaving the lounge without even looking up, escaping with no more than a quick, “I'm sorry, I have to go.” He sprints into the nearest bathroom and doesn't throw up, but he falls into the floor and breathes heavily and lets a heavy flow of tears spill out of his eyes. He clutches at the sides of his head, trying to swallow but finding himself unable to, attempting to make sense of the panic and the horror and the dread. Archie breathes heavily until he feels lightheaded, not sure what he's more upset about: the fact that Jason and  _ her  _ might have been involved, that Jason was a victim; the idea that he might get caught, that his friends will be disgusted and his father will be so  _ so disappointed and and and _

Or, maybe it's simply a delayed reaction to that night. Or, to correct himself,  _ nights.  _ Multiple.

The nights he spent with  _ her. _

This time, Archie does throw up.

 

\----------

 

He comes to the conclusion that he's a bad person.

Archie sits in his bedroom with the lights turned off, throwing a baseball up and down and catching it with his right hand. Through the room is dim, sunlight wafts in through the windows, casting shadows on the wall next to him.

For one, he's losing sleep, throwing away his high school education, and shutting out his family and friends only months after Jason was murdered. He is suffering from a few bad experiences while Cheryl is all alone, grieving for her brother and being in more pain than Archie can even imagine. And their poor parents…

But that isn't just why Archie feels horrible.

He throws the ball at the wall, letting it bounce into a corner without bothering to pick it up.

He's a bad person, because he was so sure he wanted it. On that day with  _ her _ , he was excited to be in the car with her, excited to feel her lips against his, caught up in feelings of adrenaline and  _ if she's an adult, she knows what she's doing and she must be right. _

But afterwards…

Afterwards, he felt  _ off. _

When she pulled him inside the car after that, he felt  _ uncomfortable _ .

When she made advances on him in dark classrooms long after the bell rang, he felt  _ scared. _

But, on that very first day, he wanted it.

He asked for it.

Archie can't stop thinking about that.

 

\----------

 

Archie tells Jughead first.

It's on a Wednesday, and they had just finished studying for a science test at Pop’s. Archie and Jughead walk in silence, the latter offering to accompany him home. It isn't awkward; they've been friends for almost a lifetime, and such a bond allows comfortable silence whenever it is needed.

“Betty's worried about you, you know.”

Again, Archie is caught off guard. He adjusts his backpack straps and looks at his friend. Jughead is still staring at him, eyebrows raised in waiting for a reply.

“She doesn't need to be. I told you, I'm fine.”

“What is this about?” Jughead's voice is raised, tinged with annoyance and frustration. “You've been acting weirdly all week. This isn't about Jason Blossom anymore. Seriously, what is up with you?”

“I-” Archie freezes, trying to find the words. “I'm...I'm sorry. I can't tell you.”

“Why not?” Concern. There's concern in his voice. Just a bit, but enough.

Archie doesn't know it reassures him or hurts him more.

_ Empathy. He doesn't deserve empathy. This is his fault. All his fault. _

And then he tells him.

Slowly, but surely.

They sit down near the road, and Archie tells him; he starts with the day he got into the car with  _ her _ (Miss Grundy), the flirtatious glances she shot his way, the ones he foolishly interpreted as her way of trying to befriend him. This happened several times, on several different days, before something else happened. 

This is when Archie slows down, the words tasting like poison in his mouth. “And then she...started taking my clothes off, and then…”

He shakes his head. Closes his eyes.

Jughead says nothing.

“It, um... _ it  _ happened a few more times after that.”

“Archie, you need to talk to Sheriff Keller.”

Archie breathes out nervously, because this is the first time Jughead has spoken since he started the story, and even now his voice sounded unsure. He can only imagine what he looks like in the dark. On top of that, the prospect of coming forward with the story is almost too much to bear.

But, still, there's something in Jughead's voice, the firm, straightforwardness of it, that calms Archie. That makes him believe that it's the right decision. That everything is going to be okay.

So he nods.

“Okay.”

 

\----------

 

Jughead tells Betty, who tells Veronica.

They all accompany him to talk to Sheriff Keller, who listens patiently to every word Archie has to say as his friends wait outside his office. When Archie finishes his story, Keller is mostly quiet and writes a few things down. Archie is scared. Terrified, actually. Because there is no telling what will happen to him now that the story is out in the open.

Sheriff Keller picks up the phone and calls his father.

Archie almost cries.

 

\----------

 

His dad comes almost immediately, but he doesn't say anything. Archie, scared and confused and  _ exhausted _ , repeats the story one more time, this time in a tad bit more detail. Sheriff Keller nods as he writes in his notes what Archie is able to fill in from last time. His father, however, leans against the back wall, staring off into space. Something tells Archie he is listening, though.

When Archie and his dad leave, Betty and Jughead and Veronica are still there, sitting on the ground at the end of the hallway with their heads against the wall. They stand up quickly as they walk by, clearly exhausted. Archie feels all types of emotions as he sees his friends, awkwardness definitely being one of them.

The ride home is no different. Archie fumbles with his hands the entire time, ready for his father to yell at him and be disgusted of him just like he was of himself. But the yelling never came. In fact, for a while, nothing came. Only silence, until they were almost home and Archie felt a sob escape from his throat.

His dad turned to look at him, and it wasn't anger that flashed across his face. It was concern. Worry. “Archie -?”

“I'm sorry.” Tears clouded the boy's vision, and he buried his face in his arms. “I'm so sorry.”

“Archie,  _ you have nothing to be sorry for.  _ Do you hear me? You have absolutely  _ nothing  _ to be sorry for.”

He nods, though he is still crying. He tries to wipe them away.

“But it's all my fault.”

“Archie.” His dad stops the car. Turns to him. Cups his cheek with one hand. “This is not your fault. Okay? Please, do not blame yourself for any of this.” 

And Archie nods, and Fred is pulling him into a hug, and he sobs out the pain and the fear of the past few months and his father holds him and strokes his hair with one hand.

“It's okay...it's okay.”

But it doesn't feel like it.

 

\----------

 

Archie is  _ still scared. _

He notices it when he jumps at the sound of the car door slamming.

He notices it when bile rises in his throat because the cashier at the supermarket is a young, blonde, 30-something year-old woman.

Sometimes he has nightmares that wake him up covered in cold sweat, white, blinding panic gripping every part of himself as he tries tries  _ tries  _ with everything he has to stop panicking.

His dad tells him he should see a therapist.

Veronica, when they eat lunch together, tells him he should see a therapist.

But he doesn't want to.

Because there's that small, tiny voice in his head telling him it's wrong. It is wrong to seek therapy for something so insignificant; something  _ he  _ consented to in the first place. Not when a boy is dead. Not when everybody is still grieving.

But the circles under his father’s eyes tells him that  _ he's _ grieving too. Maybe not in the same way, but grieving for him all the same.

So Archie goes to therapy.

His first therapist judges him almost the second he walks in. He jumps to conclusions almost every minute, refusing to let Archie talk about what he wants to talk about. There's definitely some yelling involved.

But the second one is calm and inviting, letting Archie get comfortable around him before launching into a relaxed conversation about his music and the football team and his plans for college.

In fact, they don't bring up  _ her  _ (Miss Grundy) until the third or fourth session.

Archie’s been playing guitar a lot, too. Especially after he wakes up from a nightmare. There's something about the strum of notes and the vibration of the strings that is incredibly therapeutic, relaxing him almost instantly.

Fred says he likes to hear it, too.

 

\----------

 

Miss Grundy is found a week after Archie comes forward with his story. They also apparently plan on investigating her relationship with Jason, but Archie tunes the rest of his classmate’s conversations out.

Some things he feels better not knowing.

 

\----------

 

Everything is better until Archie sees her picture on TV. It's around 4 AM, and Archie is staying up later than usual to avoid another nightmare. When he sees her face, it feels like someone has suddenly sucked all of the oxygen out of the air. Everything spirals, he feels lightheaded, and he collapses to the floor with revolting images flashing through his mind as if they're on a loop. Archie buries his face in his knees and cries and cries and cries and doesn't stop, doesn't even slow down until he sees the sun appear through the trees and begin to light up the living room. Vegas pads his way over to him, and Archie pets him softly.

Then he gets up, curls up on the couch, and falls asleep.

 

\----------

 

The sixth therapy session is when things start to get better. Archie and his therapist begin identifying specific parts of the experience that can help him understand what happened to him. They even begin using more specific words, ones that help him better make sense of the situation.

It's weird, but Archie feels a strange sense of comfort in knowing what happened a little bit better.

And when he gets home that day, he immediately invites Jughead, Betty and Veronica over.

\----------

 

Jughead makes popcorn and Betty collects drinks from the fridge. Veronica and Archie passionately debate in the living room over which movie to watch as Vegas curls up on the chair. When they finally settle on Star Wars Episode 4, Betty sits next to Vegas with his head in her lap, and Veronica, Archie, and Jughead get the couch, Veronica leaning against Archie. They talk and laugh and throw popcorn at each other, and Archie thinks that maybe,  _ finally _ , things might finally start to get better.

And Fred, who watches from the kitchen with a smile on his face, thinks the same thing.


End file.
